Lord of the Skies
by Bunky Sweets
Summary: The Ice Wall Mountains hold more than the northern barbarians, and the extraordinary nation within its protective peaks will not stay undiscovered for long. A war like no other blossoms in the skies. Valdemar had better be ready.


This story is one that belongs originally to Firefox. She came up with the characters and plot, but seeing as she had no time to do more than start it, she handed it over to me when I asked about it. I am not making money from writing this. I do not own anything that belongs to Mercedes Lackey. If you have any questions, and do not want to write them in a review, feel free to e-mail them to me.

* * *

_:I'm _starving _Neco! Can't we land yet?! We've been out all night!: _Riordan griped loudly in Necodemeh's mind. They were soaring above the twelfth sector of Peldurus, heading for their home mountain, about a half-sector away - roughly five peaks.

Neco blinked behind his protective mage-glass goggles, which had a blue tint to them, and grinned.

_:We__ have to stop anyway on that peak ahead, to give the relieving Rider and dragon the reports.: _Neco replied, squinting against the rising sun in front of them and giving Rio a mental picture of the approaching landing spot.

_:What__ about food?: _the dragon asked immediately. Neco chuckled and patted Rio's rather gritty gray scales. Once Rio's mind was on something, there was no getting it off it.

_:Home__ is only a few small mountains away after that.: _he sent a picture of a freshly killed _Dultha_, a beast that had adapted to the terrain since Neo's ancestors had brought it with them when colonizing the great kingdom they were now guarding. It had once been a kind of goat, but years of climbing cliffs had modified it. Now not only was its meat valued as good dragon food, but its large, shaggy white coat came in handy as clothes and blankets as well, not to mention its curled horns serving as good toys for the littles.

He felt Rio gather speed beneath him and he grinned again. The landing-peak closed in fast, and Neco pressed a fingertip to his lens' rim, releasing a small thread of magic to magnify the small figures awaiting them below.

_:Ah__, it's the new recruits, Bragi and Abrel.: _Rio informed him before the dragon could identify them for himself. Neco felt a rush of heat underneath him and he glanced down, seeing Rio's neck flush a delicate rose beneath the gray scales at the mention of Abrel. Neco had to admit that the young green was a very well-groomed dragon, but Rio already had a mate.

_:Don't__ pull any fancy landings now, wing-brother. You aren't as young as you used to be.: _he warned, making sure Bragi, who was a strong mind-speaker, couldn't hear him. Rio flushed a deeper shade, before regaining his natural gray with small, pebbled, black streaks.

_:I don't know what you're talking about.: _he responded airily, but pulled out of the climb he had been in, instead going straight for the landing with all four silver-clawed talons outstretched and huge but thin wings clapping out in front of him to make sure he didn't topple forward. Bragi and Abrel squinted against the rush of wind and waved… well, Bragi waved. Abrel lifted her wing-shoulders in a dragon's greeting.

The young female might have been special for a dragon, but her rider was not. His features were normal, at best. White hair, with streaks of black in it from his young years, and ice-blue eyes graced a pleasant enough face. He was small and thin, but that was because he came from a small cave, with lots of siblings. Although he did make up for all of his normality that with a strong mind and a stronger Mage Gift.

"I hope it was an easy Ride for you Necodemeh." Bragi greeted, stepping closer and undoing a pack at his waste.

"Easy as the Section's winds would allow, Bragi." Neco grunted, starting to unbuckle his numerous leg straps and slip off Rio's back. The _Dultha_-skin saddle sat in front of Rio's wings, at the base of his long neck, and although comfortable as well as safe, took a great while to get strapped in. The same went for trying to get out.

"Don't bother getting off; you'll just have to get back on again." Bragi advanced and handed him an official-looking parchment, "It's from the Council. They're calling all the Riders in." Neco frowned and skimmed over the message quickly.

"Now why in the gods' Skies would they want to do that? They know the threat of wild dragons is getting larger these days. Two caves were attacked last week in the fifteenth sector alone. We can't afford having _no _Riders out there." Rio swiveled his head around and watched him through one large, swirling blue eye.

_:It__ must be important then.: _he pointed out. Neco grunted and stuffed the message into his own pack with no further thought.

"I still think they're being idiots." He mumbled, redoing his straps and nodding to Bragi, who smiled.

"Perhaps we should bring that particular subject up with them, when the time for the meeting comes." The young Rider suggested, blinking innocently. Neco smirked grimly, then saluted and gently tapped Rio for a take-off.

Rio nodded slightly to Abrel, then spread his wings and lifted into the air with the ease his large wing-span gave him.

_:When__ do we have to go?: _Rio asked after a few glides of silence. Neco scowled and adjusted his goggles, remaining silent for a moment.

_:Not__ for a day or two. Even if it _were _an emergency, which I'm sure it's not, it would take at least that long to get _all_ of the Riders there.: _he answered finally. Rio caught a thermal and spiraled higher.

_:So__ we can go home . . . I miss Ianira.: _Rio was always single-minded about things, it was in his very nature as a dragon to only think of one thing at a time. Home for him was associated with his mate, Ianira, a lovely white dragon that had bonded to Neco's own mate, so his string of thoughts was easily predictable, which suited Neco just fine. The Rider did not enjoy surprises.

_:I__ know you do, wing-brother.: _he sent a wordless thought of comfort and felt Rio's gratitude. They had a deep bond between them, as did most Riders and their dragons. Riders had to know their dragon inside and out before they began scouting together, or they were just asking for disaster.

_:I'm__ still hungry . . .: _Rio added, gliding past a snow-capped peak at an angle. Neco magnified the cloud-shrouded mountain they were approaching and grinned.

_Home._ The thought and warm emotions were mutual, and Rio surged forward, sharp-fanged mouth slightly open with anticipation.

* * *

Spiridion massaged his ankle slowly, wincing when it twinged under his hand. With a dark frown that dimmed his pale face, he wrapped it in bandages and wiggled the appendage cautiously. Nothing serious, but it would keep him from doing things with his usual finesse.

"Damn messenger dragons . . . if they spent half the time delivering messages, as they should, instead of hanging around for scraps, I wouldn't keep tripping over them," he mumbled, shoving an impatient hand through his dust-smeared white locks. Scuffling from a few feet away took his attention.

"Spiro! Get your tail _out _here right now! Your fathers flying in and Riordan looks like he needs a good wash!" Spiro blinked and jumped off the crate of dragon food he had been perched on. The voice belonged to the cave's Head Dragon Keeper, and the brawny woman was not someone to disobey lightly.

"How far?" he yelled back, doing his best not to hobble.

"One mountain length, at best." Came the reply. Spiro held back the smile that threatened at the thought of seeing his father and walked to the stall that belonged to Riordan with only a slight limp. The stalls were only mini-caves inside the one that served as the human's home, with bedding on the ground and sufficient space so that stretching dragons could carry on without hurting their fragile wing-membrane by scraping it against the unforgiving stone-wall.

Riordan was the biggest dragon in the Cave, so he naturally needed the biggest stall. It could fit up to 150 people comfortably, if they didn't mind packing in tightly. But the stall was empty when Spiro reached it, so he grabbed the dragon's washing materials from the stone-fashioned cabinet then spread them out.

The comb had bristles made of the toughest animal-fur on the mountain. _Dultha_ hide, sheered of the fluffy, soft outer-layer so that the stiff bristles of the fur's roots could be used. The short white spikes were well cleaned, but also well used. He would probably have to procure a new one soon.

A large rag-cloth hung over the side of an empty stone basin, and Spiro grabbed it then rung it out, knowing the magical polish would only be activated by such gestures.

A large _clap _of air warned him of his father's landing. Eager to see him, Spiro leaned out of the opening to the stall and stared at the landing space, a magically enlarged and strengthened cliff, bordered with bright Mage-lights to guide dragons at night. The Head Dragon Keeper and other servants rushed to help his father out of the many straps while the well-trained and intelligent Riordan remained absolutely still.

His father dismounted and dismissed the helpers, patting his very unclean gray dragon on the shoulder and walking towards Spiro.

The boy scrambled out of sight and continued to ready the cleaning materials. He and his father weren't close, per say, but Spiro respected the old Rider greatly. He had dreamed of joining his father in the skies, having a partner dragon and fighting the wild ones together. It was a dream that couldn't be realized. His movements became short and angry as he went along the well-traveled trail of thought.

Riders were the best of the best, their dragons had no equal, and Spiro knew that he fitted no such description.

He was graceful yes, but only because he hadn't been selected by a dragon, and had been forced to brave the many dangerous steps connected the caves that dotted his father's mountain alone in his many errands. But being able to balance like a _Dultha_ was not a skill necessary for a Rider.

He had a Mage Gift of course, but had only just begun to control it properly. His Speaking skills hadn't developed as far as he'd hoped, either. He'd been told countless times how disappointing he was to the family name, how strange a first-born son he'd turned out to be. And, though Spiro immediately argued with those statements, he secretly agreed that he was not a good choice for a Rider or a son. He was rude; speaking his thoughts whether they were asked for or not. He was free-spirited and irresponsible; never in the spot he was supposed to be, and never to be found if he was needed for some menial task. Immature, his teachers called it. Immature and foolish to boot. Nothing could be done for him. And so, with their words fueling his anger as they burned away his hopes, he'd been given the tasks of a dragon's hand. It meant work, but as long as Spiro could watch the magnificent beasts all day, his complaints would be sparse and correctly worded. After all, if he showed signs of improvement, he'd be stuck with the tutors again. If he seemed like he was enjoying his "punishment" then something worse would be forced upon him.

The only one who could put Spiro in line was his father, and Neco was hardly around the mountain long enough to spare his son a few harsh words, much less keep him from acting up for any length of time.

The boy was shaken out of his thoughts by Riordan's sleek gray head turning into his stall and blinking large, swirling eyes at him.

Spiro half-smiled and took a step back, almost flattening himself against the cave-wall as Riordan entered the cavern. His father followed him in, grinning wearily at Spiro.

"I hope everything's been in order since I last left, Spiridion?" he asked in his usual brisk tone. Spiro nodded and picked up his brush.

"Yes, sir. No major happenings." As the Lord of the Mountain's eldest son, even if a disappointment, Spiro was still expected to know about the taxing events of the cave.

"Excellent. Be good for him Rio. And Spiridion, would you mind feeding him as well?" the lord of the cave left before Spiro could answer.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly after a moment, and then turned to clean the huge gray dragon.

Riordan swiveled his head around to look at him as the comb was dragged along his scales, removing a thick coat of dust. But Spiro did not meet the intense azure gaze. It was considered rude to speak with another's dragon, even though it was possible and allowed in emergency circumstances. And Spiro wanted nothing more than to talk with his father's amazing partner, so he knew meeting the dragon's stunning eyes would shatter any reservations in him.

To distract himself from both the unnerving sapphire eyes and his own ever-present thoughts, he hummed his favorite song as he worked.


End file.
